


Crowley's Asylum

by JulieRoxanaJames



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Asylum, Gen, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulieRoxanaJames/pseuds/JulieRoxanaJames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year 1966, Sam Winchester ended up in an asylum because of his sleeping disorder, hallucinations of the devil and other health issues. After some time, he received a roommate named Castiel, who seemed absolutely normal, except he was following invisible bees. But very soon Sam realized Castiel suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder. Shortly, Jimmy Novak took over Castiel's body, and more and more personalities appeared. </p>
<p>And there are even more strange people in the asylum owned by a strange doctor named Crowley. Will Sam survive the treatment, returning back to his older brother Dean, or will he go  completely mad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowley's Asylum

"Take the seat, Mr Winchester."  
  
Dean sat on the chair the little chubby man in a black smooth suit offered him. He looked around the room only to observe four empty walls covered in an old dark red wallpaper. The office reminded him more of Hell than a real office. The man landed in his armchair behind the dark wooden desk.  
  
"So, I believe you didn't change your mind," the man leaned against the backrest. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here and this conversation would never happen."  
  
"Yeah, I didn't. My brother really needs help, Mr ..." Dean glanced at the nameplate. It said _Fergus R. McLeod_ , written with golden letters. "McLeod."  
  
"Crowley, please," McLeod corrected him. "I need you to describe your brother's condition. I should know what illness I'm going to treat."  
  
"I'm not exactly sure what's with Sam. He - he started to talk to an invisible man, he locked in his room for days and refused to eat or sleep because this guy didn't let him," Dean started to explain but at the end of his sentence his voice cracked. He remembered how Sam looked last few days - exhausted, tensed, maybe even thinner, his hair was a mess and he definitely couldn't ignore the black undereye circles. Sam wasn't laughing anymore, he barely spoke.  
  
"I see," Crowley nodded and folded his arms. "Did he tell you who the man is?"  
  
Dean gulped and lowered his eyes. This wasn't easy for him.  
  
"Lucifer," he mumbled after a while.  
  
Crowley frowned, pursed his lips and muttered in interest. It seemed he thought about something for a moment before he rummaged in his drawer and handed Dean a paper with some text. Dean studied it for a while but there were too many words he didn't know.  
  
"Uh, you have an understandable version of this as well? I have no idea what the hell does it say," Dean asked confused.  
  
Crowley rolled his eyes.  
  
"Basically, by signing this you agree to put your brother in my institution and let my people treat him and do everything they think is good for him. And by everything I mean _everything_. Is that understandable now?" Crowley explained impatiently.  
  
Dean could swear he saw a flash in Crowley's eyes and he gulped again. He didn't know if this is the best for Sam, but he couldn't help him himself, they didn't want Sam in the church and in the hospital they said they couldn't do anything. This was his last chance.  
  
He signed.  
  
"Brilliant. Now let's welcome your little brother in my mad house."  
  
***  
  
Sam was waiting outside Crowley's office. He considered taking a nap before Dean comes out. And hell that Sam really needed a nap. He could almost feel the circles under his eyes. He knew he looked like he didn't sleep for ages.  
  
He didn't like the place. It was dark, depressive and every now and then he heard a painful scream.  
  
"Soon, you'll be screaming too, Sam," a tall blond guy said with a spiteful grin. "You still have a chance to run away. They won't help you, you know it. Do something. Come on, Sam, pay attention to me, I'm bored."  
  
Sam tried to ignore him at first but the man picked at him intensively.  
  
"Shut up, Lucifer," he hissed at him, loosing his nerves slowly.  
  
"He said shut up to me," Lucifer shrugged amused.  
  
"Go away!" Sam yelled loudly. He closed his eyes and banged his head against the wall.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
Sam turned in the direction the familiar voice was coming from. Dean was looking at him, worried expression written all over his face. He just got out of the office and approached his younger brother.  
  
"Dean," he sighed. "How did it go?" he asked with pain in his voice.  
  
"It's good, they'll keep you," Dean tried to form a smile but failed. " They're going to to heal you. See, you'll be okay, Sammy."  
  
"Yeah," Sam responded, not even bothering to believe his brother. "So...you're just gonna...leave me here now?"  
  
"Uh, the guy over there will come in a minute and tell us everything we'll want to know. I think he's gonna like you, Sammy, he seems he wants only interesting and smart people to share conversations with. And you're definitely interesting and smart," Dean patted his shoulder encouragingly.  
  
Sam wanted to say that interesting and smart people don't end up in asylums but he stopped when the door opened and Crowley stepped in the corridor. When he spotted Sam, he barked a laugh.  
  
"This is your little brother, squirrel? This gigantor?" he smirked.  
  
Despite his condition, Sam still managed to pull a bitchface. Dean frowned.  
  
"Squirrel?"  
  
"Ah, nevermind," Crowley approached them and offered his hand to Sam. "The name's Crowley. I run this asylum."  
  
Sam observed his hand before he glanced at Dean. His brother's eyes were pleading and he gave a small nod. Sam knew very well Dean's trying to help him even though Sam didn't want to go in this loony bin and meet crazy people but if there's a chance to get Lucifer out of his head, it was worth trying.  
  
He breathed out, reached his own hand and squeezed Crowley's.  
  
"Sam," he nodded and immediately pulled his arm away. "Guess I should say I have a problem and I hope I'm going to heal?"  
  
"Let's not confess our dirty little secrets before the treatment officially starts, love," Crowley put his hand in the pocket of his long black coat. "It's obvious you have a problem. You wouldn't be in this asylum if you didn't belong here."  
  
Sam and Dean changed their expressions and stayed silent. This guy just indicated Sam is insane. Not a good start, definitely. But maybe he's right.  
  
"Well, according to your shut pieholes, I believe you have nothing intelligent to say. Now, if you follow me, we'll go to the entrance hall and see you off," Crowley waved in Dean's direction and pointed at the left corridor.  
  
"Wait, what?" Dean wondered. "That's all?"  
  
"What else would you want, boy? This is mad house, not a five-star hotel! No room service, information or kind attitude to patients, there are freaks and madmen and we treat them like freaks and madmen. Each patient has a doctor, pills, nurse and I'm that warmhearted to allow roommates, entertainment in the hall and group therapies. Once a week a visit from family or friends. Is this allowed anywhere else? Doubt that. You should thank me, morons," Crowley growled. He seemed that arguing him would be meaningless. "Questions?"  
  
Dean gulped and Sam frowned.  
  
"When do I get out?" he asked, hoping he'll hear something like a week, month at the maximum.  
  
"Until I say you're ready to leave," Crowley shrugged. Sam nodded but whined inside his head in disappointment. This is going to be a very long and uncomfortable experience.  
  
"Oh Sam, I swear I won't go away that easy. We just became friends and you want them to tear us apart? I won't let that happen," Lucifer suddenly appeared behind Sam and cackled. Sam turned around quickly to send him somewhere but Lucifer was gone as fast as he came. Dean stiffened.  
  
"Sam?" he asked with a firm voice. Crowley narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in curiosity. Sam gave a final look in the corridor to ensure Lucifer really disappeared and turned to Dean.  
  
"Yeah, I just thought, uh...I thought I heard someone scream," he lied.  
  
"That's not uncommon, people scream here very often. Should I remind you again what this place is?" Crowley said with not much interest. "Shall we go now? I have a lot of paperwork to do yet."  
  
***  
  
Dean hugged Sam tightly. Sam felt awkward to do the same with Crowley standing near, watching them and tapping his feet nervously, so he turned away and pretended they are alone.  
  
"Hey, you're gonna make this," Dean announced when he pulled away and tidied his work-suit. "I'm starting to feel this wasn't a good idea when I see Mr PunkAss here," he whispered and pointed his chin at Crowley when he turned away to observe the massive clock above the door. "But they can help you here. I want you to be okay, you know that? Tell me you know that."  
  
"Yeah, Dean, I get this," Sam sighed.  
  
"Good. Well, I'll come to visit you on Tuesday, so be sure your room is clean," Dean joked.  
  
"I think you're forgetting what place this is. It's not a kindergarten, it's a mad house, no one is going to be soft with me," Sam told Dean. "Have you read about asylums? What they're doing to the patients? There won't be even the things I could clean in the room. At least I hope I won't sleep on the floor."  
  
Dean suppressed the temptation to laugh a little. Sam maybe felt sick as Hell but he'd keep even the slightest bit of bitter humor, even though there was nothing to laugh at. Than the creepy silence filled the hall.  
  
"So, uh, um," Dean tried to find the right words after a while. "I'm gonna go to work. Try to do everything they told you to do, sleep, eat, take the pills, whatever, just listen to them. And try not to fight with other patients..."  
  
"Dean, stop acting like my father," Sam stopped him but regretted it immediately. Dean clenched his teeth.  
  
John Winchester wasn't a good example. Dean blamed their father for everything that happened. John was a sheriff at the town they grew up and after their mother died, he changed. His life goal was to kill the man who murdered his wife and he always brought the boys with him on his travels. But sometimes he had to go alone and that meant Dean took care of them both. He tried to be everything their father wasn't. If they could even call John a father. But that's a complete different story.  
  
"I'm sorry Dean," Sam whispered in apology. "Didn't mean that..."  
  
"That's okay, Sammy. You're tired, you don't know what you are talking about," Dean calmed him . "I know I act like you're an infant, it's because you're my little brother and I want to help to feel better but I don't know what else to do and..." Dean rubbed the corners of his eyes. "Just don't be trouble here."  
  
Now it was Dean who looked tired. Sam hated himself for causing this to him.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
They turned to Crowley.  
  
"I believe you have another heartbreaking words to say to each other but you're not the center of the universe here. Could you make it quick?" he folded his arms.  
  
Dean gave him a murderous look.  
  
"Okay Sammy, I'll see you on Tuesday," Dean patted Sam's shoulder in encouragement and smiled a bit.  
  
"You promise?" Sam asked skeptically.  
  
"I promise."  
  
That was it. Dean was ready to go. Without Sam. He nodded at Crowley and gave Sam the last peek full of hope and emboldening. Then he turned and walked away.  
  
He was gone. Sam was _alone_. Alone in this unknown nuthouse with strange people and even stranger personnel. He felt so small and weak despite his tall and quite muscular figure. He was still looking in the direction where Dean left, hoping he'll come back and take him away and say he just was kidding and he'd never put Sam here, that he will take care of him and manage the problem on their own, as always. But he didn't come back.  
  
"Okay, moose," Crowley stood next to him, knocking Sam back into reality. "Now let's find you a room."

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been in my head for a very long time and finally I decided to post it. 
> 
> I need to learn a lot about asylums in 1960's, so if anybody finds a mistake in the description, feel free to contact me!
> 
> I will try to include the most important moments and characters in this au.


End file.
